


80 BPM

by HopefulNebula



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Canon Gay Character, Fix-It, Gen, Jossed, Non Fix-It, POV Alternating, Tearjerker, this is how Farscape would do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-24
Updated: 2011-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-28 00:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/301538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopefulNebula/pseuds/HopefulNebula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Claudia wants is to have one thing go back to normal. (Spoilers for the end of season 3.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	80 BPM

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crysgen78](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crysgen78/gifts).



> This assumes that at least some of the events of the season 3 finale cannot be undone. Which means it'll probably be Jossed come next summer, but I don't care.
> 
> Thanks to afinch for looking this over!

Tick.

Steve takes his first breath in he-doesn't-know-how-long, but it's not just his breath. Another breath sounds in the room.

Tick.

Claudia gasps as she sees her first ever _best_ friend move. Even after all the things she's seen, all the things she's done, she'd still been half expecting this not to work.

Tick.

He opens his eyes. He can't see for a minute; everything's all cloudy and blurry. The blur recedes, finally, and Claudia is standing over him, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Tick.

She hears the door swing open behind her and hit the wall a fraction of a second later.

Tick.

He tries to sit up, to look around, to find out what on earth is going on. He tries to remember how he got here. But what isn't blank in his mind is fuzzy.

Tick.

"Claudia..."

"Pete, no. I've already done it, anyway," Claudia says, not daring to take her eyes off Steve.

Tick.

Steve tries to speak, to say something (he doesn't know what), but his throat is too dry and it hurts to move his lips.

He thinks he remembers a man thanking him for his help, and another one injecting him with something. And then nothing.

Tick.

She hears him groan, hears how scratchy and strained it is. "Get him some water," Claudia says.

"Claudia, we--"

"Myka. Get. Him. Some. Water. Now."

Myka either sees reason or decides to follow the path of least resistance -- Claudia isn't sure which -- but either way, she heads to the kitchen.

Tick.

Pete kneels down next to Claudia, and Steve is surprised to see tear tracks glistening on his cheekbones, too.

Steve slowly pulls himself into a sitting position and forces three words through his parched throat.

"Am I dead?"

And then he sees the box and the metronome sitting next to it.

Tick.

"Not anymore," says Claudia, grinning and pulling Steve into the same kind of hug she'd given Joshua after twelve years of absence.

As she pulls away, she notices what Steve's looking at.

Tick.

The hug is nice. It's warm and tight and his neck is wet where Claudia's cheek is pressed against it and it's just what he needs. But the only thing he can think of is that box.

Myka comes in with a glass of water. She silently hands it to him, and he takes a sip.

Tick.

Claudia's grin widens even further.

"Sykes was using that thing to keep Marcus Diamond alive. They're both dead now, thanks to you. It's kind of ironic that they thought they'd killed you, but they're the ones who gave us what we needed to bring you back."

Tick.

Steve takes another sip of water and tries to get his thoughts in order.

"The metronome?" he asks.

"Belonged to Johann Maetzel," Myka says before Claudia can answer. "Invented by him, actually. Using it on a dead person lets the person continue living. But it's not real life."

Tick.

"Of course it's real," Claudia interrupts. "It's real enough." It has to be. It _has_ to be. Because if it isn't, that means losing her home, her job and her best friend on the same day, and she doesn't know if she can take it.

Tick.

Well, he thinks. That explains Marcus Diamond.

"I'm sorry, Steve," Myka says. "If you stay connected to the metronome, you'll lose more and more of yourself, until one day you'll be empty inside. Just like him."

There's no need for Myka to clarify who that "him" was.

Steve blinks, and says nothing.

Tick.

Claudia starts crying again, and finds herself enveloped in Steve's arms. Pete comes up behind her and rests a hand on her shoulder.

"No," she sobs. She wants to scream. She wants to fight. She wants to take the metronome and bury it somewhere where nobody will ever find it. She wants to shout at Myka and Pete and Artie and Jane and every other Regent and anybody else she can find.

But there are two thoughts that balance these desires: Shouldn't she have read the artifact's full description before using it? and shouldn't Steve have a choice in all this?

Tick.

Steve takes a bigger drink of water. He thinks he can put together enough words to make a conversation now.

"Claudia," he whispers into her hair, "I'm sorry..."

She sobs harder and wraps her arms around him so tight that he almost can't breathe.

"I want to live," he continues. "I really do. But not like this. I saw Marcus, the way he moved, the way he acted... the only emotion he ever showed was fear, and that was only when Sykes took that box out. I can't be like that, knowing that thing is keeping me alive. I can't let it control me the way it controlled him."

Tick.

Claudia can't listen to this anymore. She knows he's right. She knows it's his choice. But the truth is too great to bear.

She wants to get up and walk away. She doesn't want to see this any more than she wanted to see Pete smash the Janus coin. But she can't move, either, because she knows she'd be ashamed to show any less courage than Steve did from the moment he chose to go undercover.

Tick.

"I'm sorry, Claud. I'm so, so sorry." And he is. "I had a good idea how it would end as soon as Jane told me what needed to be done. And I'd made my peace with it. Oh, Claudia." Steve stopped and took a deep breath. "Thank you."

Tick.

Thank you? _Thank you?_ What the fuck is there to be thankful for?

She sniffs and does her best to listen. That's the least Steve deserves.

Tick.

And now he's crying too. This is the first chance he's had to really process everything that's happened to him, and he has no idea whether he's making the right decision because there's no way everyone can win here.

"Thank you for bringing me back here. For giving me the chance to say a proper goodbye to all of you. God, you have no idea how much it hurt to have to say goodbye like that. I'd just gotten to love this place."

Tick.

Claudia sniffs again, but she's determined that this time, Steve won't die alone.

Tick.

"Pete. Thank you for making all those jokes. Even the bad ones." He smiles. "And thank you for owning up to what really happened that day during Tesla practice."

"Anytime, Spock," Pete replies. "I'm gonna miss you, you know."

"I know," says Steve. "And Myka, thank you for coming back. I don't know how I could have dealt with Pete if you hadn't."

"Hey!" Pete says, pretending to be hurt. Myka smacks him lightly, but the pain in her face belies the playful gesture.

"And thank you for saving my life in Denver," Steve continues. "I'm really glad you did."

He looks around and sees Leena and Artie in an out-of-the-way corner of the room. He's not sure when they got there, but it doesn't matter.

"Leena, thank you for making me feel welcome from the beginning. I really needed the support." Leena smiles a sad smile.

"Artie," he says, and Artie's face contorts into a frown. "Thank you for the challenges. Those were the best few months of my life. Please... the next time you see her, thank Mrs. Frederic for me, too."

Artie nods, knowing there's no point in saying anything when Steve would know the truth.

"It's time," Steve says.

Tick.

Claudia is not going to cry. She is not, she is not, she is _not._

But she is. Everything is just too much.

Somehow, she manages to ask: "Are you sure?"

Tick.

"As sure as I'll ever be," he says. Which isn't anywhere near a hundred percent, but it's still what he has to do. And it's better to get it done with now.

He reaches for the metronome.

Tick.

Claudia's hand darts out to grab his wrist. "No," she says. Then she adds before anyone can get the wrong impression: "I'll do it."

"Claudia--"

She's not sure who in the room is protesting, as there's more than one voice, but she interrupts them all. "I have to do it. I'm the one who started this. I should be the one to finish it."

Tick.

"Are _you_ sure?" he asks. He doesn't want the memory of doing this to haunt her.

Tick.

"I have to," she says.

Steve lies back down on the table he had been set on. Everybody comes close to him. Pete squeezes his hand once, and Claudia grips Steve's other hand as if she's never going to let go.

"Goodbye," she whispers. "And thank you."

A chorus of quiet "thank you"s and "goodbye"s fills the room.

Claudia's hand closes over the metronome.

Tick.

The last thing Steve sees is the family he made for himself, smiling and being brave for him.

Tick.


End file.
